


for worse or for better

by solar_celeste



Series: we’ll build this love [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Asthma, Brotherly Love, Father-Son Relationship, Hospitals, Kid Harley Keener, Kid Peter Parker, Nebulizers suck, Parent Tony Stark, Parent-Child Relationship, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Toddler Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, adopted kids, inhaler, or the med bay, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 07:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solar_celeste/pseuds/solar_celeste
Summary: The sniffling started two days later. At first, it was only a small sniffle, the kind one would get after dusting their house or during pollen season in the spring. It was nothing to pay any notice to, nothing worth worrying over.Or so Tony thought.orTony wasn't prepared to become a parent, that much had been clear long before the adoption. But now, three weeks later, he's put to the test when Peter comes down with a seemingly un-known illness.*can be read as a stand alone but i would recommend reading the first fic of the series first*





	for worse or for better

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy! I poured so much effort into this one!

The warm glow of the rising sun peeked over the horizon of high rises and skyscrapers. A low hum of piano played throughout the speakers in the bedroom and soft breaths puffed out from a small form in the middle of the bed. In and out, in a mantra of barely audible adorableness.

Small toes peeked over the side of Tony’s pillow, a sight he learned to love seeing each morning. As it turned out, Pepper’s warning about codependency hadn’t been empty and Tony soon found himself wishing he had listened to her. There had been no reason for him not to, other than his pure stubbornness, Pepper was always, undoubtedly, right. 

Since the adoption, Harley, Tony _and _Pepper had tried to get Peter to sleep in his own bed, in the room made especially for the boy and not even _seven_ _feet_ across the hall. The attempts didn’t last long though, and after many nights of endless screaming and tears, Tony went back to co-sleeping in favor of actually getting some rest. 

Pepper was concerned by the whole situation, fearful that a four year old (a key piece of information Tony hadn’t found out until he had been reviewing the adoption paperwork) being terrified to sleep without his adoptive father would surely develop into something much bigger. 

And, once again, Pepper was right.

Not long after Peter was brought home, and for good this time, Tony had to leave for a lunch meeting with some head executives from the Stark Industries Ireland branch. They were in the middle of transferring funds, a sum just large enough to establish a new facility and open a medical center that would be free to single parents and those living paycheck to paycheck. 

The meeting had been scheduled for weeks, long before Peter had even been a small twinkle in Tony’s eye. In fact, he had initially scheduled the lunch so long ago that  _ he _ had entirely forgotten about it until Pepper reminded him. 

Tony smiled, that had all been yesterday. An awful,  _ awful  _ day if you asked anyone in the Stark household. There had been screaming and tears and tantrums, hunger strikes, snotty noses and things of the like. 

Today, in the sunny hours of the morning, there was quiet. 

Tony sat up, checking the time (09:27) and turned to look at his newly legalized baby boys face. Instead of the dried tears and wet lip Peter had been sporting the majority of the day before, his cheeks were clean and soft. His downy curls were awry, sticking up every which way with bedhead and he sucked softly on a pacifier (bought by Tony after he had found the boy trying to smuggle his disgusting old one for the uptenth time. It was yet another thing Pepper disapproved of).

“Pete.” He called softly, rubbing his hand up and down the back of the boys pajama shirt. His hand took up nearly all of the real estate on Peters small back. “Petey-Pie, time to wake up, bud.” He said again. 

Peters lashes fluttered in response as the boy rolled over. Large blown bambi eyes blinked blearily up at Tony, who couldn’t help himself from smiling. 

“-aye.” Peter mumbled around the pacifier. 

“Well hello to you too, bambino.” Tony smirked. “Ready to get some breakfast?” He asked.

Peter nodded, much more smiley than the day before, and extended his arms, making grabbing motions towards Tony. The genius breathed a laugh, scooping his spider-monkey into his arms and rising from the bed. Perhaps he would make pancakes for breakfast, or maybe waffles, something sugary enough to classify as a treat, an apology for all the mess of the day before. 

They were working on increasing both the boys’ carbohydrate and caloric intake anyway, trying to up their weights before their next check in with Dr. Cho. Harley, having been in the Stark household for longer than his little brother was nearly to his goal, Peter on the other hand, still needed to gain at least eighteen pounds. 

“M’goin’?” Peter asked around his pacifier. He tucked his head into Tony’s shoulder.

“Going?” Tony asked. “What do you mean, Pete?” 

“You goin’ ‘way today?” Peter asked, big brown eyes peering up at Tony’s own. A wayward curl threatened to fall into his eyes. 

Tony’s heart constricted at the hope hanging in the question, how beneath such a simple sentence Peter was silently begging Tony not to leave again. How, when Peter had asked, his small fingers clenched Tony shirt more tightly and his eyes grew a couple sizes larger. 

“No bambino,” Tony promised, “I’m not going anywhere today.” 

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Peter nodded his head, smile gracing his face as he buried his head back into Tony’s sleep shirt. It took a great amount of willpower for the man not to audibly coo. 

“Again?” Came a groggy voice from the kitchen island. Harley sat in his pajamas, a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, he drank from a mug. Presumably coffee he wasn’t supposed to be having. He was asking about Peter co-sleeping with Tony once again.

“Like clockwork.” Tony responded, flicking on the coffee machine and moving towards the cabinet for a mug and a sippy cup. He bounced Peter, quickly scanning over the notifications on his phone while he waited for the fresh batch of coffee to brew. 

Harley nodded and watched, looking like he wanted to say something but was refraining for Peter’s sake. 

“So boys,” Tony began, “I was thinking we could go to the park today?” He asked. The park was one of Pete’s favorite places to go, someplace fun where the little powerhouse could burn off all of his endless energy. And then, because he wanted to treat Harley as well; “And you know, maybe someone might want to stop at the video store and pick up that new game that just came out?” He looked up at Harley to gauge what the boy’s response might be. 

Immediately, the teens face lit up. “Really Tony!?” He exclaimed, practically falling off of his stool in his excitement. It took a lot to get the boy to raise his voice out of excitement, unlike his brother, Harley was quite mellow. “I thought you said no because it was too violent?” 

“Yeah, well, boys will be boys.” Tony responded, smiling. “Besides, I thought it would make a nice pick me up before school starts next week.” 

At the change in subject, Harley groaned. The kid was  _ not  _ looking forward to school. He was grateful for the opportunity of course, more so than he could show, but he dreaded having to sit still in a classroom for eight hours a day, away from Peter and Tony and with a bunch of smelly kids he didn’t know. 

Peter on the other hand, was overjoyed at the idea of school. The kid wanted to go so badly they had dealt with a tantrum over the fact that he wouldn’t be starting until the following year. They were still doing homeschooling for preschool, at least until they worked on potty training and codependency, but the kid wanted to  _ go.  _ He seemed to have an incurable need to sit in a classroom with a bunch of rambunctious toddlers and learn about shapes to his heart's content. 

It both amused and confused Tony. He hadn’t taken Pete for the ambitious type. 

“Thank you!” Harely said, voice lowered back to its normal level as his smile shone a thousand watts. 

“No problemo, kid.” Tony grinned. “Apple or orange, bambi?” He asked as he pulled on the door to the fridge. 

No response. 

“Petey-pie?” He sing-songed. 

Absolutely nothing.

“Would you believe this crazy baby?” Tony asked Harley. “This little jerk just fell asleep on me.” Harley laughed at the sight, stretching his arms out to take the toddler from Tony. 

“Just pour him apple, he never wants orange anyway.” Harely said. The kid had a point, Peter didn't seem to really care for orange juice, always instead opting for apple. Still, Tony preferred to always give the boys choices when there were multiple options available. He never wanted them to feel trapped or forced into something, even when it came to juice. 

Tony moved back to the fridge, pulling out the jug of apple juice and filling Peter’s NASA sippy cup with the amber liquid and his own mug with coffee. Best not to mix the two up, he couldn't even begin to imagine that kid on coffee.

“M’no.” Peter groaned from Harley’s arms. 

“Um, yeah.” Harely said. “It’s time to get up.” 

Peter groaned again before going silent and just when Tony has started to wonder if the toddler had fallen asleep again, he opened his eyes, whined, and made grabby hands for his juice. 

“Gosh,” Tony mocked, “so dramatic and demanding.” He handed the juice to Peter, Harely watched with a grin. “Here you are, your highness.” He said, bowing. 

“T’ank ‘oo.” Peter said, pulling out his binkie in favor of the juice. 

“No problem, bud.” Tony said. “It’s what I’m here for, after all.” Harely snorted.

Peter took a precious moment to pull himself away from his juice, eyes shining as he asked: “We goin’ to dah park?”

Tony and Harley both laughed as the older began pulling out ingredients for their breakfast. He had decided on pancakes, since cleaning the waffle iron was always a much dreaded chore. 

“Of course, even in your sleep you heard about the park.” Tony said, shaking his head. 

“Mhmm, we goin’?” Peter asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, Pete.” Tony laughed. Peter giggled, shimmying himself away from Harley’s arms and making to leap from the bar stool, apparently assuming that they were going to the park that very instant. 

“Woah, kiddo! I meant  _ after  _ breakfast.” Tony chuckled, catching the kid as a very frazzled Harley watched the exchange. 

“Peter, be  _ careful _ .” The teen stressed. 

“Listen to your brother, Pete. Once in a while he’ll say something wise.” Tony said, face graced with a comical grin. The quip at least, seemed to lighten Harley’s mood.

Tony was finally getting the hang of all of this.

***

The park wasn’t far from the tower, maybe three blocks or so, and the trio always walked the short distance. It was nice out, sunny and still rather warm for September in New York, something which Tony was attempting to take advantage of. There was a cool breeze, just enough to warrant long sleeves or a light jacket, but overall the weather was rather perfect for an afternoon trip to the park. 

Peter was dressed in a tiny pair of blue jeans, a black shirt and a thin red windbreaker, the objects bright and easily seeable color appealing to Tony. Harley on the other hand, wore something a little less flashy. The older boys clothes were darker, jeans black and jacket grey. It wouldn’t have been Tony’s first choice, for multiple reasons, but he let the teen have his freedom. 

He supposed, anyhow, that as long as the boy had his cell phone on him, the muted colors weren’t so problematic.

“Swing! Swing!” Peter cheered as the park came into view. If it weren’t for Harley and Tony’s grip on both his hands, the toddler would have sprinted across the street and down the rest of the block. 

For whatever reason, Peter seemed to have a fascination with the swing set. He would spend hours on the swing, or as long as Tony would allow, asking to be pushed higher and higher until Harley became concerned the boy would topple right over and out. 

Peter claimed that he liked to “fwy like I’on Man”.

“You wanna try the slide today, bud?” Harely asked. 

Peter  _ hated  _ the slide, was absolutely terrified by the very notion of it. Which was why, when Peter then proceeded to answer:

“Maybe….” Tony was utterly confused... and, exceedingly proud. 

“Swings!” Peter chanted as he pulled on their hands and arms, attempting to use his tiny body to get the much larger two to move faster. The older two hurried after the toddler, matching grins on both of their faces. 

Peter tugged on the material of Tony’s pants once they reached the much loved swings. Complying, Tony happily lifted the boy into the swing, situating his legs as Harley walked around, ready to give Peter a push. 

“Go, go!” Peter cheered. Harley gave the swing a hardy push, eliciting a joy filled giggle from the boy inside it. “Higher! Higher, please!” Peter clapped. 

Harley laughed, pushing the boy a bit higher and, from his position just far enough in front of the swing not to be kicked, Tony snapped a picture on his cellphone. 

***

The sniffling started two days later. At first, it was only a small sniffle, the kind one would get after dusting their house or during pollen season in the spring. It was nothing to pay any notice to, nothing worth worrying over. 

Or so Tony thought. 

Besides his separation anxiety, Peter was a very complacent child. He never asked for a lot, he never complained, not unless he was overtired that was, and he never told anyone when he needed something. If the boy was thirsty, hungry, hot, cold, or needed the bathroom, Tony better hope that he would notice. Peter wouldn’t ever ask for water or for the heat to be turned up as they traveled down the highway, he was too polite, raised for his four short years of life to deal with what he was handed.

Harley had been similar in that manner when he had first came to Tony but the boys younger brother took the ‘go with the flow’ attitude to a whole new level. 

Which was why, when Peter didn’t mention he wasn’t feeling well even when Tony could see the snot down to his chin, the inventor wasn’t the least bit surprised. Saddened by the fact, yes, but not at all shocked. 

Harley was spending the night at a friends when Peter’s cold first became obvious. A fact which Tony was over the moon about because A) The boy was making friends he trusted and was establishing safe and healthy relationships, and B) Peters constant coughing and sniveling wouldn’t set off the teen’s anxiety.

Nope.

It was setting off Tony’s, instead.

“Peter, bud, you’ve got to let me wipe your nose.” The man stressed, trying to clean off the squirming boys face with a baby wipe. Peter only shook his head, looking away and making a sound that  _ nearly  _ resembled a whine (which sent a hopeful spark into Tony’s chest thinking that his baby was finally becoming comfortable enough to whine in front of him).

“No ‘ony, no!” Peter said, kicking and trying to squirm away.

“Why not bambino?” Tony asked. “Don’t you want to be all clean?” At the mention of clean, Peter looked up at Tony with wide hopeful eyes and asked:

“Bath?” Tony chuckled. Peter  _ loved  _ baths, craved them to the point where there were some days he was able to talk Tony into giving him two. It was something he hadn’t got much of when he had been in the system and, as long as sitting in warm water with a plethora of bath toys made the boy happy, Tony was more than willing to give the boy as many as he wanted. 

“Hmmm.” The genius jested, pretending to think by scratching his goatee. “How about, you can have a bath if you let me wipe your nose?” He offered.

Peter glared at him with all the annoyance the small toddler could muster before sticking out his (somehow  _ always _ ) sticky hand and muttering: “Deal”.

***

Tony was awoken at one o’clock the next morning by a heart wrenching sob and the distinctive sound of retching. Besides him, Peter was was sitting miserably, footie pajamas covered in his own sick and tears and snot pouring down his red face. The boys usually fluffy curls were matted and plastered to his face with sweat. 

“Hey, hey.” Tony said, at a loss for words. If he was being honest with himself, he really had no idea what to do in a situation like this, he had absolutely no idea how to deal with a sick kid. Harley hadn’t been sick at all since Tony had adopted him, infact, the teen seemed to have an immune system made of steel. 

Peter sobbed again, cries turning into a series of harsh coughs that threatened to bring on another wave of sickness. 

“You’re okay, Pete.” Tony assured, taking the boy into his arms, mess and all and carrying him into the bathroom. “I’ve got you, bambino. You’re okay.” He continued to soothe. 

“M’s-sorry!” Peter cried out in between sobs, face red from his distress and the intense heat radiating off of his small body. 

“It's okay.” Tony promised, rocking the boy as he turned on the tap for the bath. “I’m not mad, your not in trouble, buddy.” Peter nodded weakly, as Tony stood him in front of the toilet and began to strip the boy out of his soiled pajamas. 

Peter coughed again, breaths tangled with his incessant sobbing. His small shoulders shook with each short breath and his face became impossibly more red as he struggled for a breath. The cold the boy had caught already increased the toddlers chance of an asthma attack and his crying and frantic heart did little to help the oncoming attack. 

“Deep breaths, Bambino.” Tony coaxed as he searched under the sink for Peters emergency inhaler. “Come on, deep breaths for me, Pete.”

Peter nodded, trying to comply but only succeeded in setting himself into another round of undoubtedly painful coughs. Tony winced, hoping that the boys face wasn’t actually losing its color and his lips weren’t actually tinted blue and that it was only his own stress and anxiety making him believe he was seeing the worst. 

Grabbing the inhaler and quickly attaching the spacer, he set the hollow rubber onto Peters face and helped the boy take two deep puffs of albuterol, crossing every limb he had in the hope that the medicine would be enough and they wouldn’t have to rush to the hospital.

Thankfully, the color returned to Peter’s face and his breathing became more regulated as he calmed down. Tony released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

“What’s his temp, F.R.I.?” Tony asked, smoothing down the boys sweaty curls.

“103.1 degrees fahrenheit.” The AI answered, a little sympathetically. 

“Shit.” Tony cursed, not even catching his swear as he turned the still running tap to a cooler temperature. 

“No bath.” Peter whined, which not only worried Tony further but showed the man how miserable the boy really was. 

“Just a quick one Pete, I promise.”

“No….” Peter moaned, head flopping tiredly. The pair had only been asleep for a few hours before they were awoken and Peter was still, and understandably so, exhausted.

Tony sighed, giving into the boy and instead grabbing a cloth from the basket beside the tub and dipping it into the cold water.

“Just let me wipe you down, bambino.” He said, bringing the cool cloth to the toddlers flaming skin.

“Cold!” Peter yelped, trying to pull away from the offending cloth. Tony’s heart clenched as he tightened his grip a little and tried to quicken his pace.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry.” He apologized, not even touching on how terrible he felt about the whole situation. “But we have to cool you down.”

Tony finished quickly, only re-dipping the cloth a couple more times before Peter’s miserable protests became enough to make him give up and he shut the water off, dropping the cursed washcloth into the tub.

Dressing the toddler in nothing but a clean pull up, because he didn’t want to risk overheating the boy, he carried Peter out into the living room, sat in front of the Tv and called the first person he thought of: Pepper Potts.

It rang three times before she answered, once for every heart attack Tony had experienced in the last hour. She looked groggy, and had clearly just been woken up. Her pajamas were ruffled and her hair was beyond the state of ‘bed head’. It was by far the most disheveled Tony had ever seen his perfect girlfriend. Still, he could not find it in himself to notice, bothered instead by the heat and wheezing coming from the shivering form in his lap.

“Tony?” Pepper asked, voice still laced with sleep. “What’s wrong?” She asked, eyes immediately flickering to Peter and then to her watch as she checked the time. “It’s 1:46 a.m.”

“Peter’s sick.” He said frantically, bouncing the boy gently. “And I don’t know with  _ what _ .”  _ I don’t know what to do, _ went unsaid.

“Does he have a fever?” She asked.

“102.7” F.R.I.D.A.Y answered. Pepper nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay, well keep him out of pajamas for now even if he tells you he’s cold.”  _ He won’t _ , Tony thought. “Make sure you keep him hydrated, give him water, not juice or milk. Or you could water down a little bit of apple juice, if that would get him to drink more of it.” She added. “Has he thrown up at all?” She asked.

“Once.” Tony said, already moving to the fridge with Peter cradled in his arms. “But I think that was just because he was coughing so much.”

“Okay, so probably not a stomach bug.” Pepper ruled out. “It’s probably just a cold, Tony.” She said. “Little kids get those all the time.”

“I don’t know, Pep…. It seems really bad.” Tony mumbled, screwing on the cap to the sippy cup and offering it to Peter. “Try and drink  _ all  _ of that, bambi.” He instructed. “Maybe it would be better if you came to check him out in person?” He asked Pepper.

“I’m in Miami for a conference Tony.” She sighed. “It’s been scheduled for months and besides, I’m not a doctor.”

Tony stayed silent.

“Your just being overprotective Tony.” She tried to soothe. “Peter’s going to be okay.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony said softly, as if he was trying to convince himself the same. “Thanks, Pep.” 

“Of course.” She smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Tony told her just before she hung up. He redirected his attention back to Peter. The boy was curled into Tony’s arms, eyes half lidded as he did his best to drink all of his juice. He stroked the toddlers warm cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Please get better, bambi.”

***

Peter did  _ not  _ get better. 

Infact, he got worse. 

At four o’clock that same morning Peter woke up again, coughing harshly and fighting for breath. Tony panicked but immediately jumped into action, he left Peter on the couch for a moment while he ran to the bathroom and grabbed the inhaler and spacer before rushing back to the living room and giving Peter his much needed medicine. 

Still, Peter coughed more than a few more times before his hacking trickled down into wheezing. The boys face pinched just after, his nose scrunching. Tony, thinking the toddler was about to be sick again, grabbed the bowl he had brought over earlier and placed it in front of Peter’s face. But, instead of retching as Tony had expected, Peter spit into the bowl. A mouth full of mucus. 

Mucus and  _ blood. _

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony said, using every part of his will to keep his voice steady and calm for Peter’s sake. “Call Helen Cho, tell her to meet me at medical, immediately.” 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn’t respond but Tony knew she was delivering his message. Grabbing Peter and hurrying to the elevator he pulled out his cell phone and began to dial the one number he had really hoped he wouldn’t have to call that night: Happy.

“Tony I swear to God.” Happy hissed when he picked up.

“Happy, I need you to go pick up Harley right now.” Tony stressed. 

“What, why?” Happy asked, cleary sensing the urgency in Tony’s voice. “Is something wrong?”   
  
“Peter’s sick, Happy.”  _ Really sick. _ “I need you to go get Harley and bring him to medical back at the tower, he’s sleeping over at a friend's house in Brooklyn, I’m sending you the address.” 

“Got it boss.” Happy said. “Go take care of the kid.” 

“I will, Happy. I promise.” He said, but he wasn’t sure exactly who he was talking to.

***

It was forty five minutes later when Tony could stop hearing the frantic beating of his heart and the hurried rush of blood in his ears. Happy and Harley had arrived at the Tower in record time, probably defying nearly every possible traffic law to get there. Harley had been distraught, running into the facility in search of his little brother. He had hugged Peter, gently but firmly, resting his head on the little ones chest so he could hear the soft, reassuring thump of his heart.

Then the adrenaline wore off. 

Helen worked her wonderful magic.

The boys laid town and, just when the tension in the room could no longer be cut with a knife, the pair fell asleep in a heap of tangled limbs. 

“What's the giant mask for?” Tony asked, trying and failing to keep the quiver out of his voice

“I have him doing a nebulizer treatment right now.” Helen said, checking over her clipboard once more before hanging it on a hook at the edge of the bed. 

“A what?” Tony asked, trying his best not to sound as ignorant as he felt.   
  


“A nebulizer. It’s similar to his inhaler but its used for more extreme cases. It might make him a little shaky or nauseous but it will help immensely with his breathing” She said. “I’ll probably give you a smaller, more portable one to keep upstairs just incase.” Tony nodded.

“So you know what he has then?” He asked. 

“It’s a respiratory infection, it’s popular in children with asthma, especially when the weather changes. His lungs were used to the warmer weather, the fall air just shocked his system.”

“What about the blood?”

“He just irritated his throat by coughing and throwing up. It’s common and will heal fairly quickly.” She reassured him.

“So he’s going to be okay then?” Tony asked. “He’s not dying.”

“No, Tony.” Dr. Cho assured. “He’s not dying. In fact, in the next day or two, he’ll be right back to... what do you call him? A spider-baby?”

“Yeah.” Tony chuckled. “My spider-baby.”

And for the first time that night, Tony was able to breath. Because he trusted Helen Cho with his life, had to in numerous situations, and took her word with immense trust. Amd because as he watched Harley cuddle his little brother on one of the med bays sterile cots, and he watched better breath smoothly through the mask and watched his small chest rise and fall as Harley’s did the same, Tony realized that was the only thing that mattered. That that was the only thing that  _ would  _ ever matter. 

As Tony watched his two boys, watched his  _ sons _ , he realized he would move mountains and light stars to protect those kids. He realized just how much he loved them.

And he never wanted to change that.

**Author's Note:**

> Respiratory infections were something I experienced multiple times a year when I was a kid and I thought well, Peter probably did too. And if he didn't.. well, my Peters gonna. I apologize for the lack of Harley in this fic if he's a favorite of yours, he will be in more of the up coming fics. I just really wanted to write this one ya'll.. even if I'm not so proud of the ending...
> 
> Also, how many different nick names does Tony have for Peter? lol
> 
> Comments, kudos and constructive criticism is much appreciated :)
> 
> Scream at me on tumblr @solar_celeste


End file.
